


You’re The One That I Love

by Sxymami0909



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, F/M, Gen, McCall Pack, Protective Derek, Protective Lydia, Protective Scott, Protective Stiles, Scott is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1896195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sxymami0909/pseuds/Sxymami0909
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the final fight and the pack is in the midst of dealing with the benefactor and his assassins. And right when they all think they’re going to make it out alive something happens and Stiles needs to make a choice. First love? Or new love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You’re The One That I Love

**Author's Note:**

> **Request:** from Barishcoco on Tumblr. The song say something by Christina and a great big world. Whatever you feel. It should definitely be set in season 4 and have a happy ending.

There are moments in a person’s life that time stops, stands completely still. The rush of blood surging and pumping through veins filling the muted noise of chaos whirling around the immediate area. Death is all around him and yet there’s only one thing that draws focus. There’s a word for it, Tunnel vision. He’s not sick and logically speaking his peripheral vision is probably fine. And yet, his gaze is stuck between the two women in his life, heart pounding painfully fast against his chest as he stands in the middle of yet another Aztec temple in the middle of Mexico.

Argent is behind him fighting with one of the creatures sent to kill their pack. Kira was taking on one of the berserkers in the far right of the large open room. Liam was fighting with a beta that Kate had recruited. Scott was fighting with Gerard who was surprisingly spry for a vindictive old man who should be suffocating in his own black goo. Derek was currently trying to get the best of Kate as Peter glared on menacingly in their wake.

He stood frozen, brows eyes drifting from Malia who was being held against the wall by a berserker, claws clawing at her side, to Lydia attempting to back away from another berserker not far away. Scott was busy handling his own demons and couldn't see Lydia’s struggle. He watched Derek’s gaze shift briefly to Lydia as he stepped forward probably to try and help, but Kate’s claws coming out to scratch him held him back.

Stiles couldn't get to them both. There was no time. His hand tightened around the battle axe he was wielding, no it wasn't his bat, but Lydia had been adamant he bring something more practical and he was glad she had. How did he choose? Did he save one at the risk of the other? Did he go save the girl he spent the last few months dating and growing close to or the girl he’d loved since third grade? How does a person make that kind of choice? Whose life was more important, more valuable? Is that was it came down too? Stiles didn't know. He didn't know anything.

But the scream that tore from Lydia’s lips in that second made the choice for him. He watched as the sharp nail of the berserker tore through her side and before Stiles knew what was happening his body was propelling forward through the chaos around him. “LYDIA!” His face contorted in fear as adrenalin kicked in. He watched as one of Kate’s beta’s crossed his path and he lifted his arm not hesitating to slice the wolfsbane drenched axe into his skin.

His body fell aside and Stiles kept moving with purpose. The only thing he could see was Lydia on the ground, hand pressed to her side, and the color red.

The scream had the entire pack distracted as they all made a valiant effort to get to her.  Scott’s gaze drifted to the berserker hovering over Lydia and he dug deep inside of himself, claws elongated, hair covering his face, eyes blood red. He focused on the power he felt building inside of him, the anger and rage burning bright. He would not lose someone else the way he lot Allison. This was _his_ pack and if he had to he’d tear everything in this room apart to protect it, he would. He opened his mouth and roared, anger and power seething in the sound as the temple around them shook.

Startled faces turned and for a brief moment everything was silent and then pandemonium. Scott’s foot shoved out in a powerful kick knocking Gerard back as he stalked forward, very much looking like the predator that he was. Scott could have sworn he saw a hint of fear in the old man’s eyes. Good, he should be afraid. This ended here.

The power Derek felt from Scott in that moment rivaled the power he’d felt from the pack of alphas that came to Beacon Hills just over a year ago. It renewed the fight in him and pushed forward scratching his claws down Kate’s chest as he advanced on her. Out of his peripheral vision Derek could see Stiles moving through the throng of bodies trying to make each other bleed towards Lydia.

He used his foot to kick out the back of Kate’s knee before jerking his head in Peter’s direction. “Help Malia,” he growled knowing Stiles would never forgive himself if something happened to the other girl while he saved Lydia. Derek didn't know if Peter was listening, his focus was once again back on the woman who had destroyed his life and he was pretty sure for the first time ever he saw a hint of fear in her gaze. Good, she should be afraid. This ended here.

Chris was diligently trying to keep himself focused on the fight at hand and holding down the line, but the thought that his daughter’s best friend could be dying was distracting. Allison would want him to protect her. _He_ wanted to protect her. He’d been the first one to speak up against her coming, but of course she said the pack wasn't going anywhere without her and Scott had backed her up, saying they needed her. Chris knew it was true, but fear was still lurking in his heart and this was why.

He continued fighting with renewed purpose, drawing strength from the others and the memory of his daughter as he tore through the flesh of the creature in front of him. Fear was a powerful motivator. Chris knocked the creature down, towering over it. He wasn't sure if that thing could feel fear, but it should because this ended here.

The sound of Scott’s roar made Stiles push even harder and then his axe was connecting with the back of the berserkers bone covered body. He slammed the axe down hard and steady several times before it turned its attention to him. His gaze met Lydia’s briefly assessing the damage and when their eyes locked, he saw his own fear mirrored there. But he didn't have time to do anything about it. The berserker was on him in a matter of seconds.

Lydia watched from the floor, eyes wide, face pale as Stiles lashed out with his axe. The movements were quick and controlled, he’d been training with Scott and Derek for months now, but the axe did little against the berserker, not much did. She could see him getting tired, practically feel it as the thing met him blow to blow. This wasn't happening, not again. Lydia used the wall behind her to push herself up, freezing where she stood as a sudden foreboding feeling rushed through her body. By this point she knew the feeling well by now. It was death and it was calling for a specific person’s blood.

There are moments in a person’s life that time stops, stands completely still. The rush of blood surging and pumping through veins fills the muted noise of chaos whirling around the immediate area. Death is all around her and yet there’s only one thing that draws focus. There’s a word for it, Tunnel vision. All she can see is Stiles, fighting to protect her. The warning is bubbling in her throat, the scream pulling at her vocal chords, begging for release. _No_. _She_ controlled her powers; she would not let them control her.

Lydia sucked in a sharp breath shifting the energy building inside of her, bringing a clear focus in mind. Intention were important, Deaton had told her as much. She knew what she was doing and if there was any time to master her abilities, now was it. She opened her mouth and let out the loudest scream she’d ever cried.

The sound echoed through the temple and immediately there was a shift in the room. Scott flinched expecting pain to tear through his head, but it never came. Instead he watched as Kate, the berserkers, her betas and the other supernatural creatures around then grabbed at their ears and sunk to their knees.

Scott’s head jerked over to Lydia who was still screaming, the wail reverberating through everything. He glanced over at Derek, meeting the other wolfs gaze. “NOW!” He shouted his voice reaching the entire pack. And as a whole they moved in, taking the opportunity and making a choice. This wasn't like every other fight. This was a fight of survival, kill or be killed. Scott didn't want to end another person’s life, he never wanted that. But sometimes all the good intentions in the world can’t help redeem a person who doesn't want redemption.

His claws slid through Gerard’s skin, the blow lethal, blood spurting from his wounds and he stumbled and collapsed to the ground. Grief stabbing at Scott's chest.

Chris landed a final blow on the creature in front of him with no mouth before sailing for his gun on the floor. He gripped it in his hand flipping over onto his back and sent several rounds into the creatures head. It stumbled and fell back, blood pooling around it's body.

Derek’s gaze met Kate’s and he felt his chest tighten. He stepped forward, but didn't get far. The next thing he knew Peter was there snapping her neck like she was nothing. And a part of him was thankful that he wasn't going to have to kill the woman he once used to love, even after everything.

With Kate dead the berserkers dropped to the ground going back to their sleeping state. And then silence. The screaming stopped and all eyes drifted to Lydia.

She stood there several feet in front of Stiles, dress bloody, body wavering back and forth as she look on at her pack. She could feel the awe from them, the worry, the love. Her face was pale and she could feel the heat of her own blood against her hand. But all she could focus on was Stiles.

Heavy breathing filled the room as they all shifted closer to her hesitantly as a whole. Lydia held Stiles gaze for several minutes, “I love you,” the words were out of her mouth in a whisper making everyone around them freeze. Scott was just behind Stiles to his right and Derek to his left. Peter and Chris were holding up Malia who was looking a little worse for the ware and Kira was beside Scott, her hand reaching to entwine with his.

But Lydia didn't care. She’d spent the last few months trying to accept Stiles moving on with Malia, trying to be happy for him, because he deserved that. But in a matter of a few moments she’d nearly lost him. That scream had been meant for him…but she changed it someone, she spared him.

Stiles stared at her flabbergasted. They were in the middle of an Aztec temple in Mexico, the ground littered with the bodies of supernatural creatures and she was telling him she loved him? What? He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Lydia nodded, “I am so in love with you that it drives me crazy.” She felt dizzy, “It was time.” She whispered before her vision blurred and she felt her body giving out. The last image that graced her sight before blacking out was Stiles’ panic stricken face as he moved forward to catch her, the sound of the packs worried cries behind him.

 

______

 

Lydia was warm. The kind of warm that was generated by more than the telltale sign of the comforter wrapped around her body. She flexed her fingers slowly, the action hard, but successful. She was in the moment between waking and sleep and that was when she heard them. The voices speaking softly around her.

“Have you checked her heart rate? Deaton said to check her heart rate.” Stiles lifted his finger to his mouth, biting the nail nervously, a habit that he couldn't seem to shake no matter how old he got. “Well?”

Derek sighed, “How am I supposed to check her heart rate if you won’t shut up?” He asked reaching out and resting a hand on her arm drawing out some of her pain.

Scott frowned, “Guys don’t fight. We don’t want her to wake up to fighting.” He said sensibly as he placed a hand on her other arm, black veins sliding up his arm as helped Derek draw out some of her pain. “My mom will be back soon with Chris and the sheriff. She’ll take Lydia’s vitals then.” He told them quietly knowing Stiles already knew that. He reached out with his free hand over Lydia’s body and placed it against Stiles’ shoulder. “She’s going to be okay man, you heard Deaton the worst of it is over.”

Stiles dropped his finger from his mouth and nodded, “I know—I know I just…it’s been three days Scott.” He voice was barely a whisper, “Why hasn't she woken up? What are we supposed to do if--”

“Don’t,” Derek’s voice was firm and he pursed his lips as he glanced between Stiles and Scott. He had gotten a lot closer to the two of them in the past few months and by default he’d gotten close to Lydia too. “She’s strong, she’ll be fine.” He said leaving no room for argument.

Both Scott and Stiles nodded.

Stiles reached out and took her hand in his. “Come on Lyds,” his voice was soft, “Come back to me.”

It was his voice in particular that got to her, that made her fight the grogginess inside of her. Stiles wanted her to come back to him. She needed to go back to him. It took her a few minutes, but she flexed her fingers against his hand as her eyes started fluttering open. “Is everyone okay?” She asked voice scratching her throat like sandpaper.

When Lydia’s vision finally stopping swimming and stilled, three pairs of eyes rested on her face, surprise filling each of them. They stared and she attempted to lift an eyebrow, but it didn't quite work. Oh well she supposed the effort counted. “Guys, is everyone okay?” She asked again her voice raspy this time.

Scott was the first one to break from his stupor. He nodded and grinned squeezing her arm. “We’re all okay. Some cuts and bruises and a few minor injuries. But everyone is on the mend. Thanks to you.” He said softly. Scott still wasn't sure how Lydia did what she did, but there would be another time to talk about that.

Lydia nodded, relief filling her face as she sent him a tired smile before glancing between Derek and Stiles. Her expression softened considerably when her eyes got back to Stiles. He looked exhausted and worried out of his mind. “Have you three been here all day?”

Stiles was quiet for a minute as he brushed his thumb over her hand. “We've been here for _three_ days.” He admitted. Even Derek had stayed. The drive back from Mexico had been the most terrifying 16 hours of his life. He and Derek had sat in the back of the jeep trying to stop the bleeding while Deaton talked them through patching up the wound on the car ride home. It hadn’t been the best fix, but at the time she wouldn’t have made it back to Beacon Hills otherwise. “You’re never allowed to do anything like that again do you hear me? Ever Lydia.”

Her heart clenched at the genuine fear she heard in his voice. She nodded, “Never again,” she murmured softly, trying to reassure him.

Derek exchanged a glance with Scott and tilted his head towards the door.

Scott nodded, releasing Lydia’s hand. “We’ll give you guys some time, but we’ll be right downstairs if you need us.” He told them both before standing and then leaning down to press a kiss to Lydia’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re awake.” The words were an understatement.

Derek was next to get off the bed and Lydia sent him a smile. He returned it before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll grab you something to drink for your throat.”

Lydia’s eyes moistened at the gesture and as they walked towards the door she called out, “Guys,” they paused glancing at her over their shoulders the question clear in both their faces. She swallowed hard, “Thanks for being here.”

Scott rested a hand on Derek’s shoulder as he addressed Lydia, “We’re family Lydia, we’ll always be here.” He told her seriously Derek nodding beside him.

Lydia nodded watching them go before once again glancing at Stiles. She was silent for a minute trying to read the expression on his face. “You saved my life.” She stated.

Stiles cocked his head to the side, his hand still curled around hers. “And I’m pretty sure you saved mine.” He offered.

Lydia shrugged and then winced.

“Be careful,” he said resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Your body’s going to be pretty sore for a while. You lost a lot of blood on the way back to Beacon Hills. Derek and I had to stitch you up, but don’t worry, Deaton checked it all out when we got back and everything looks good.”

Lydia’s eye’s widened, “Wow…so I missed a lot then?” She asked jokingly.

Stiles wasn't amused. “Yes, you did and it’s not funny Lydia. You almost--” his voice cut off and he ducked his head not wanting her to see the tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I know it’s not funny, I just…I've got to joke about it Stiles. I was terrified and then that thing was going to kill you and I couldn't --I couldn't let it.” She whispered, “Because I’m not sure I would have survived that.”

Stiles’ head whipped up and he studied her for a minute. He moistened his lips and clasped his other hand over hers so he was holding onto her with both hands. “You said something.” He told her quietly never once breaking their gaze.

Lydia swallowed hard, not denying it. “I did.”

“Did you mean it?” He asked her his thumb rubbing circles into her skin as he tried to assess what she was thinking.

“More than anything I've ever said.” Lydia whispered.

Stiles nodded and glanced down at their hands, “How long?”

Lydia blew out a short breath and winced slightly. She shifted carefully, not a lot, just so she was comfortable. “Since before the first time we went to Mexico.” She admitted.

Stiles closed his eyes and shook his head. How could he have been so stupid? He glanced up and pursed his lips. “You never said anything.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Of course I didn't. You've been with Malia and I didn't—I didn't want to ruin that. You seem to really care about her and I want you to be happy.” She said quietly shifting uncomfortably and this time it wasn't because of the pain.

Stiles’ lip twitched at the corner. He didn't think he’d ever seen Lydia nervous before, not in this kind of situation. “I see. Why’d you decide to finally tell me?”

Lydia sighed, “Because I almost died without you ever knowing how much you meant to be,” she replied honestly, “And I didn't want you to not know. I didn't want you to think you were never enough because god Stiles,” she felt her eyes burn, “You’re more than enough and I know it’s too late now. I know that I waited too long.” At this point she could feel the tears slipping down her cheeks and she hated herself for being weak, but she’d been hiding how she felt for so long and she just didn't have the energy anymore.

“But you have to know that I can see now what I didn't see then. And I’m sorry it took me so long to catch up. I’m sorry it took impending death for me to actually admit it. I’m sorry about a lot of things, but I can’t be sorry that I love you. And I know that’s not fair. I didn't want to be _that_ girl…” She paused and watched as he just stared at her.

Lydia reached up and brushed the tears off of one of her cheeks. “Say something…” she pleaded.

Stiles reached out and cupped her cheek using his thumb to brush the rest of her tears away. “I love you, too.” He said simply, a bright smile pulling at his lips.

Lydia’s brows drew together in confusion, “I-what?” She asked unsure of whether or not she’d heard him correctly.

Stiles chuckled at the expression on her face. “You Lydia Martin are an idiot. I have loved you since the third grade and that hasn't changed. I just didn't realize it hadn't changed.” He admitted. It was time for him to be honest. “I care about Malia,” he started, “I genuinely do, but when the two of you were in trouble and I heard you scream…there was no choice in it for me Lydia. I ran to you. I always run to you." He paused “Malia came here to check on you the other day. And we talked. She ended things and honestly Lydia if she hadn't I would have because after realizing that I still love you now as much as I did before, staying with her wouldn't have been fair and I don't want to hurt her."

Another tear slid down Lydia’s cheek as she watched him, her chest tight. “Was she angry?” She asked quietly not wanting to cause trouble within the pack.

Stiles let the hint of a smile pull at his lips, “Well she wasn't thrilled seeing you profess your love for her boyfriend in the middle of an Aztec temple after a pretty nasty fight, but she’s processing and I think she’s going to be okay. In time we’ll all be able to be friends and until then we’re still in the same pack.”

Lydia couldn't help but crack half a smile despite the guilt filling her chest. “I’m sorry,”

Stiles shook his head, “Don’t be…you’re the one that I love,” he whispered leaning in a bit closer to her, “the one I've always loved. I thought I could move on, and I’m not saying I didn't and still don’t care about Malia. I do. But what I feel for you,” he paused trying to find the right words, “I've never felt for anyone else. It’s just right. I can’t explain it any other way.”

Lydia’s heartbeat picked up speed and she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. “It’s not too late?” She asked her voice barely above a whisper, hope filling her features.

Stiles’ heart warmed even as emotion built in his chest, eyes glassy, “For you, it could never be too late Lyds.”

Lydia closed her eyes, a few tears slipping from the corners before she was able to pry them open again. This time they were shinning with happiness. “I would have waited you know...”

Stiles nodded, “I know. But you don’t have to. I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“Ever?” Lydia asked an unfamiliar vulnerability filling her eyes.

Stiles watched her for a minute before shifting. He got up and moved into the bed beside her, lying on his side as he wrapped an arm around her gently making sure not to graze her wound. “Ever.” He stated matter-of-factly. “You’ll be sick of me by the end of the week.”

Lydia leaned into him carefully a soft chuckle falling from her lips. “If I haven’t gotten sick of you by now, it’s probably not gonna happen,” she teased enjoying the feel of his arms around her.

Stiles laughed quietly. “Let’s hope,” he commented rubbing a hand down her arm. “Get some rest Lydia…I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Lydia tilted her head back slightly, “Stiles?”

He lifted his head and glanced down enough to see her face. “Yeah?”

Lydia cupped his cheek and lifted her head capturing his lips in a soft drawn out kiss. Her mouth moved over his for several seconds, the action slow, leisurely. When she finally broke the kiss a satisfied smile crossed her mouth. “Now I’ll get some sleep,” she offered as he rested her head against his chest.

Stiles blinked his eyes still wide, “At least one of us will,” he grumbled, but the truth was it probably wasn't possible for him to be happier than he was at the moment. His friends and family were safe, the pack was in once peace, and the girl of his dreams loved him. Stiles was pretty sure he’d just peeked in life and he was absolutely fine with that.

There are moments in a person’s life that time stops, stands completely still. The rush of blood surging and pumping through veins filling the muted noises whirling around the immediate area. And this…this was definitely one of those moments and Stiles hoped it never ended.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on **[Tumblr](http://reportergirl13.tumblr.com/)** and I am currently taking Teen Wolf requests through my ask box. :)


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